


Lucky Break

by MaplePucks



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Circus, Gen, Second Chances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 07:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4820567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaplePucks/pseuds/MaplePucks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Matthew is lost at the fair ground, separated from his Papa. He stumbles upon Arthur the magician, and pleads for him to help. Arthur sees an opportunity to turn his life around. It helps that Matthew's father is a famous fashion designer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky Break

It only took a brief moment, little Matthew letting go of his Papa's hand for just that second, for him to get lost in the fair grounds. It was a huge circus come to town, today was going to be it's grand opening affair and Matthew had never seen anything like it. He and his sister Michelle had brow beat their dad Francis into taking them. So far the outing had been great, all the wonder and joy a five year old could ask for. 

But of course, now, he was lost, in a sea of people in an unfamiliar place. 

Because he was lost, the charm and wonder the circus had cast over Matthew popped in an instant. It suddenly became a loud, noisy and smelly place. People shoved him, this way and that. Other children passing him laughed at his small tears and cries for his Papa. Someone actually spilled a soda on him, or at least Matthew hoped it was soda, it smelled a little funny. 

Matthew didn't know how long he spent wandering around, back-tracking, going in circles to find his family but he knew he was getting hot and hungry. Very hungry. It must have been lunch time, since he had eaten breakfast before he came. But that wasn't his main worry. Right now, he didn't think he would ever find his Papa. Or his sister. He'd be lost at the circus forever. 

Finally, he stumbled upon some less populated tents, the crowd thinned out enough to where he could see above his head at the signs on each one. He was just learning to read but he could make out some words. The tent he came to first was a wizard's tent. Or something about magic. Either way, it had a small table in the front of it, covered in vials and a small cauldron. The table cloth draped over it was old and worn with some holes in its green fabric, but it was enough for Matthew to hid under. 

That was his plan. To hid until the circus closed for the night. Someone here had to be able to get him back to Francis. Some grown up had to know what to do. He hoped. So far, all the adults he had met in the circus hadn't been so nice. But they all couldn't be bad! Not every single one of them!

Under the table with him was a small basket, topped with a piece of cloth. Peeking under it, Matthew saw some really burnt and hard rounds of bread. They didn't look good but his stomach grumbled and he took one anyway. It was disgusting and hard to even bite let alone chew. Disappointed, Matthew threw it out from under the table and drew his knees up to his chest. 

“Papa…” He moaned softly, just the shadow of legs walked in front of the tent. Matthew took a deep breath, ready to pounce right into his father's arms. But, for the second time in less then five minutes, he was disappointed again. 

It was only the wizard, who seemed not to notice he had a stowaway under his table just as much as the circus goers happened to not notice his tent. Matthew listened as he tried to call people over. 

“Come one come all, ah, yes you sir! How would like me to transfigure your pocket watch into—No, alright then, you're missing out!” The man had a British accent, and he sounded as young as the little boy's father. 

“Madame! A love potion, just for you! A few drops—already married, I see.” A ladle splashed back down into the cauldron above Matthew's head. 

“Oi, lads! Strapping as you are now, I have just the potion for you, put on muscle's over night--” 

“Not interested, carny freak show! Go play with your rabbit's or something!” Wild, insensitive laughter echoed around as the boys moved away. 

Once there were no more feet passing by, the magician slammed his hand against the top of Matthew's hiding placed and kicked the dirt. 

“Bollocks! Ruddy twats, stupid teenagers.” He mumbled under his breath. The little boy started to shake as the man's sudden burst of anger had frightened him even more then he already was. He tried to suppress a little cry but couldn't, the sound escaping out of his mouth before he could stop it. Matthew saw the man's feet stop pacing and turn towards the table. “What in the world, who the hell is hiding underneath my table?! If your in for playing another damn prank on me, I'll turn you into a bloody frog, I will!” He roared, storming over to the table. 

No where to go, no where to hide now, Matthew steeled himself, petrified over what was about to happen to him. He didn't want to be a frog! He just wanted to go back to his Papa! 

The cloth was ripped back so forcefully that some holes tore. Sunlight streamed into his hiding place blinding the little boy so that he couldn't see the hand shoot towards him. The magician grabbed him roughly by the back collar of his shirt and hauled him out so fast and harshly, Matthew couldn't help but to break down into quiet, terrified sobs. 

However, no sooner then Matthew had been dragged out to the open, he was unceremoniously dropped back down the ground, landing hard on his butt in the dirt. That didn't stop the crying, only intensifying it slightly. He closed his eyes tightly and coward in from of the big, bad, scruffy headed wizard. 

“You're just a little lad--” 

“Please! Please, sir! Don't change me into a frog, I-I don't wanna be a frog!” Matthew cried, hiccuping in his distress. “I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, sir! I-I didn't mean to hide under your table, I didn't mean to bother you, p-please! A-and I didn't mean to waste one of the biscuit things either! Don't turn me into a frog!” His breath hitched and he coughed a little, sobbing grossly. The man knelt down to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Matthew jumped but didn't pull away, he was too afraid to. 

“Alright, let's just take a deep breath. I'm not going to change you into a frog, clearly you aren't a prankster.” He said calmly, smiling, though he was highly confused. This seemed to do the trick and Matthew calmed down remarkably, stifling his sobs for the moment, enough to look up to the man. 

“O-ok, thank you.” Matthew sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. 

“You're welcome lad, now. A few things, firstly, my name is Arthur, certainly not 'sir' in any capacity. And yours would be…?” 

“Ma-Matthew Bonnefoy...” He replied in a quiet voice. 

“Right then, Matthew, where are your parents? Are they carny folk too? You do look like you have a bit of Daredevil Alfred F. Jones in you. Though he's never mention a child. Playboy that he is, he probably doesn't even know he has children.” Arthur rambled off, muttering under his breath about how irresponsible this Alfred person could be. Matthew shook his head.   
“I-I don't know who you are talking about, m-my Papa's name is Francis Bonnefoy. He doesn't belong here.” He said. Being five, he didn't intend the words to be hurtful but hurt played across Arthur's face just the same. 

“I don't belong here either, lad. But here we are.” He said, standing back up and brushing himself off. Then he offered a hand to Matthew. “Come on, I'll help you find your father, Francis was it? We will find him together.” A trembling, somewhat unsure hand reached out to grab his and Matthew sniffled. 

“What aboot your magic?” He asked, looking around at Arthur's shabby, run down tent. The English boy sighed and shook his head. 

“Trust me, no one will miss me for a few moments while I'm helping you. Now come on, your dad has to be worried stiff about you by now.” 

Matthew shook his head, looking almost somewhat hopeful up at him, “No, I mean, can you use your magic to help find Papa? You can find him really fast, eh.” He asked, cracking a small smile. 

Arthur bit his lip and cursed under his breath. He didn't want to let this scared, lost little kid down, but his magic was no more real then mermaids or ghosts. A sham, tomfoolery designed to weasel money out of people. He had to think of a lie quick. 

“Uh, no. Sorry, my boy. Since your Papa is here at the fair, my magic wouldn't do any good. It's for finding people long distances away.” He explained and the boy's face only brightened at that. 

“So you can find my Mama too then? She's been gone a long time, Papa told me she was really scared after the fire in our house and ran far away.” He said and Arthur had to suppress a gasp. Yes, he had walked right into the one but he had the sinking feeling that what Matthew told him was a lie parents tell children to explain away awful things. Like death. 

“Let's...let's just focus on your Papa for right now, lad. He's here with you and scared about you I'm sure.” He said, squeezing the boy's hand in his as they set off. He could tell Matthew was slightly disappointed but trudged on anyway, concerned about finding his father. 

Once they were back into the thick of the crowd, teeming and loud, Matthew gripped Arthur's hand as tight as he could. And he started shaking again, trembling hard. How were they ever going to find his Papa in this huge crowd! It was impossible. He'd be lost forever, even with someone helping him. Tears started to prick his eyes just as he was scooped up into Arthur's arms. 

“Here we are, you can have a better look around up here. Yell out if you spot your father, lad. What does he look like?” Arthur asked, bouncing him a little on his hip to get him to calm down. Matthew sniffled and snuggled up close. 

“H-he's tall and has blond hair, lighter then mine. A-and he has really scratchy hair on his face that tickles we he kisses me. My sister is with him too. Y-you'll know him when you see him, everyone does.” Matthew squeaked looking out over the crowd to see if he could spot him. 

That jogged something in Arthur's memory. Francis Bonnefoy. Not THE Francis Bonnefoy, the famous fashion designer? Had to be a different one. What would Bonnefoy be doing in a small dumpy town that hosted a rundown, not that great, circus? Arthur shook his head and smiled, “Well, we will find him, don't worry. He's bound to be looking for you too, I'm sure of it.” He replied. 

They walked on for a little bit more and Matthew stomach gave a loud, gurgle. The boy grabbed it, embarrassed at an outburst of loudness he couldn't control and looked up sheepishly. 

“H-Hungry...” He murmured, looking shy and guilty over it. Arthur couldn't help but smile at the adorableness this kid was displaying. He chuckled softly and nodded. 

“Why didn't you say so, I'll grab you something to eat while we look! Plenty of shops to choose from, lad.” Arthur stated moving over to the shops carrying said food items. 

Matthew looked over all the items offered, fun colorful food, if Arthur could call it food, and he hummed and hawed. People milled about them, townies, as Arthur and the others called them. One woman commented to her friend how much Matthew looked like his dad, who she assumed was Arthur. The little boy heard it but didn't pipe up to correct her, too focused on finding food so he could go find his real Papa. Though, he snuggled up to Arthur, feeling safe with him too. 

He pointed at the man twirling vivid floss around a stick and looked to Arthur. “What's that? I want that, please.” He said, looking back to watch with intrigue. The carny raised an eyebrow, switching Matthew to his other hip. He turned his head back to watch the man at once. 

“Candy floss? You've never had it? Well, it's sugary, basically all it is. It hardly counts as food, Matthew, perhaps you should reconsider--” 

Huge, puppy dog shimmering, purple eyes met Arthur's and he sighed, going over to buy a stick of candy floss for Matthew. He couldn't help it, not with a look like that. Arthur never had been one to deny a kid much of anything in his shows. 

Happily munching on the candy, Matthew was successful at not only getting it all over himself, but Arthur as well. Blue and pink floss got into his blond hair, melting and staining it. Matthew apologized, profusely, but Arthur just waved it away. He was focused on finding Francis. It was getting late in the morning, Arthur had already Matthew with him for about 45 minutes. The amount of panic and stressed Francis must be under made Arthur want to hurry. 

Also before Francis involved the police in the search. Not that Arthur had anything to hide but his carny friends did. Cops were unwelcome, off duty officers included. Arthur had to find him fast, because if he was THE Francis Bonnefoy, chances were authorities would be called in. 

They wandered around a little bit longer, Matthew finishing his snack and throwing his thrash away as they passed a bin. 

“Matthew, can you perhaps share with me what he looks like? I know you said I would know him but perhaps I won't. What is he wearing?” He asked, innocently as he could. Matthew fussed in his arms a little, trying to get comfortable again. 

“H-he has on some tight jeans a-and a pretty blue shirt. It feels really soft and nice when he hugs me--” The little boy stopped staring across the crowd, craning his neck. Arthur followed his gaze and his eyes widened. 

It was THE Francis Bonnefoy, fashion designer extraordinaire. He looked panicked, tear stains on his face, a crying dark haired girl on his hip. The man was looking around, into every face that passed. 

“Pardon, pardon! 'ave you seen my mon petit?! A little boy! Blond hair, purple eyes! 'e is wearing a red hoodie I could not persuade 'im to change! S'il vous plait! Matthieu!” He called, walking this way and that. 

Matthew shot his hand into the air when he knew for sure it was is father, waving and starting to cry himself. “PAPA! Papa, I'm right here! Oh, Papa! Shell!” he cried, reaching his arms out to them, wiggling his fingers. 

Arthur rushed over, with Matthew still in his arms because he feared putting him down and him getting lost again. Once over to the man, the blond took one look at the pair and then with a swift motion, he switch Michelle for Matthew. He smothered the boy with affection, a barrage of kisses and tight hugs. The little girl now in Arthur's arms snuggled up to him instantly, looking at her brother and father's reunion. 

It was a few moments, which Francis used to collect himself, looking over Matthew, before he let out his sigh of relief. “Mon Dieu! You gave Papa a scare! S'il vous plait, do not run off again! You aren't 'urt are you? Are you ok? No one treated you cruelly?” He asked, checking every inch of the boy. Matthew laughed a little, when he was tickled, and shook his head. 

“No, Papa, I'm ok. Mr. Arthur took really good care of me! He gave me Candy Floss stuff and helped me find you!” He smiled, looking over to Arthur, who shifted Michelle over to his other hip. 

Francis took a long look at him, taking in his disheveled hair, raggy clothes and slender frame. A smile formed almost immediately and he leaned in, giving a kiss to both of Arthur cheeks in gratitude. Matthew giggled at being squished between the two men and his sister. 

“Merci merci merci! Oh, zhank you for bringing Matthieu back to me! I was so so worried, I zhought zhe worst! Zhat 'e 'as been kidnapped and was being tortured and 'urt. Oh mon dieu, merci!” He cried, hugging Arthur now. It was a lot to take in for the normally standoffish magician. He pushed Francis away with his free hand. 

“Oi, French Frog, back off a little.” He said, insulting a man he had just met. A famous designer at that. He backtracked a little, “Ah, yes I brought Matthew back to you. He was hiding underneath my table at the tent I run. Anyone of my fellows would have done the same.” He somewhat lied. They would have used Matthew for money, nothing more. 

The little boy looked up to his father as he waved the insult away, “You work 'ere at zhe fair? Oh I am indebted to you, monsieur. If zhere is anything, anything at all I can do for you, to repay you at all, I will! Name it, it is yours, whatever zhe price, Matthieu is truly priceless to moi, I am so 'appy for 'is return.” He said, smiling and hugging Matthew close. He did take Michelle from Arthur finally and Matthew reached over, hugging her tight. 

Arthur took a deep breath, he would have been lying if he said he hadn't expected a moment like this. Especially after he had the thought that Francis was who he was. He had been thinking about what to ask in return for Matthew, not that he wouldn't have returned him regardless. A reward was perfect though.   
“Take me with you.” He replied simply. 

“Pardon?” 

“Take me with you. Wherever you are from, I don't care. Take me away from this God-awful dredge of society. I have no family who cares about me and I know no one here will even notice my absence. I'm not asking to live in your home, I'm just asking...I'm just asking you to give me a second chance at life.” He explained, nervous with anticipation of rejection. There was no way Francis would do that. But he had offered anything and Arthur was going to play his card and hope for a win. 

It was Matthew who replied, “Can we, Papa? Can we please take Arthur with us? He was really nice to me and he isn't scary at all! He can come be our new Nanny! Yea, yea! He knows magic, he'll be real good at that job! Please, Papa!” He eagerly said, looking between Francis and Arthur. 

Nanny?

Francis never could say no to Matthew in anything. 

He looked over Arthur again, this time a little more critically then before and then raised an eyebrow, “'ow good are you with children?” He asked, an impromptu interview question. Arthur looked at Matthew then back at Francis. 

“I can handle your two, if that is what you are concerned with.” He offered, hoping that was an acceptable answer. 

Francis turned to leave, “Come with us zhen, you will take care of zhese two until I can find a job more to your liking. Matthieu never takes to strangers so willingly. Zhat alone speaks volumes for your character. Do you need to go pack anything, mon ami?” He asked, flashing back a beautiful smile. Arthur was dumbfounded but then rushed after him. 

“No, I have nothing at all I want to take from this place.” 

“Tres bon, I want zhe kids to get some lunch and take a nap before we get onto zhe private jet to go 'ome.” He said, still walking out. Arthur was daunted but nodded at Francis. 

“Yes, sir.” He said to his new employer. Matthew giggled and Francis smiled. 

“Just Francis is fine, Arthur. Welcome to zhe family.” 

Matthew snuggled up to his father, happy to be back in his arms and then gave Arthur a small, sly wink as they walked away.


End file.
